


Animal Person

by Zamiel_Sama



Category: Dark Souls I
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:35:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28225485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zamiel_Sama/pseuds/Zamiel_Sama
Summary: While Sif turned out to be a special case, she wasn't the only animal Artorias had sneaked into the capitol. Not by a long shot.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 19





	Animal Person

**Author's Note:**

> After some time lurking in this fandom I decided to post something, hope you'll enjoy it.  
> Huge thanks to my beta [Ciulla96](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ciulla96), for trying to reteach me the use of commas and for preventing me from turning a fox in a cellphone - as that kind of happened.

Life in Anor Londo had been peaceful for quite some time. Some would say it was even boring, and that all the excitement was now in the smaller cities, far from the capital of the gods. While Ornstein could understand that young soldiers, barely out of basic training and trying to secure themselves a spot in the silver knight’s ranks, wanted more than an endless cycle of guard duty and training, he was quite satisfied with the current calm.

Personally, he didn’t mind at all. Sure, while his duties kept him occupied almost every waking hour of most days and they were quite repetitive, he would never miss the days of the war, when the excitement for battle was soon drowned by the sadness of having to bury the comrades that didn’t make it.

All of this to say, the captain was quite content while working through his daily pile of paperwork. He wasn’t waiting for someone to interrupt him with some urgent problem or a plea to come and beat some sense (quite literally) into the new recruits. He was working diligently and was slightly annoyed when a timid knock echoed through the empty office.

_Sigh. There goes another productive morning._

“Come in.”

A young boy dressed in passably clean clothes entered the room and, without even attempting to approach the desk: "I'm sorry to disturb you with these matters but I've been told by the stable master to ask you for clarifications" he stuttered, barely able to look up from his feet.

"Oh, right. Someone did mention an unusual situation at the stables, what is it?"

"Am I supposed to feed it?"

"Feed what? The horses?"

"The moose.”

"What is a moose doing in the-" _Oh. Of Course. Damn Artorias._

If there ever was a disturbance in the quiet life at the palace, the wolf knight was most likely involved. His soft heart was endearing at times but recently it just gave Ornstein the itch to strangle his friend.

“For today you’ll feed it, but write down what and how much it eats.” _So I know how much to decrease a certain someone’s wage._

The rest of the morning was rather uneventful.

After a quick lunch he decided to take a look at the moose in question, while pondering on the rapidly worsening habit of his friend.

The animal seemed to be in good health, which meant that they could probably get rid of it in a reasonable timeframe. Good.

Still, where did Artorias even find a moose? It had been a while since Ornstein had left the palace but he was pretty sure these kinds of animals didn’t even live in the region. Then again, neither did turtles… or storks.

The more he thought about it the more he was convinced these animals just knew to flock to his fellow knight; the thought was hilarious, but it would explain some of the weirdest encounters.

Getting back to work after that ridiculous idea struck him was almost impossible. After two hours of struggle to assign guard duty for the next month, he decided to give up and retrieve a small and unassuming black journal from the bottom drawer of his desk. He had started to record there the expenses of Sif’s upbringing, back when it seemed the grey wolf could still be separated from the wolf knight.

Sif had remained glued to Artorias’ side ever since and Ornstein, not wanting to waste a good journal, had started to write down every new animal that his friend brought back to the palace.

The pages had started to fill with an almost worrying speed. To be fair to his friends, he had to admit that once Sif had become a permanent resident of Anor Londo the number of new rescues had dropped, since they were either intimidated by the presence of a wolf or the puppy was just so damn needy Artorias didn’t have time for anyone else. Also, if he had to be completely honest, most entries were just about a random stray passing a couple of days or a week at most in the castle. Artorias had the common sense to look for someone to take care of these rescues, it just so happened that the most recent ones weren’t suited to be pets at all.

* * *

The first one to deviate from the usual pattern of puppies and kittens had been Dino – because of course Artorias had named the blasted bird. Artorias had found the crow soaking wet and trembling during his guard duty and had decided to keep it in his chambers while waiting for the snow to subside.

Within three days the weather had cleared and the snow on the ground melted almost completely, but the bird had stayed in the makeshift nest in the knight’s bookshelf.

It wasn’t injured or sick, it was just a sly little shit, not wanting to go back outside after finding a gullible and kind person willing to keep it warm and fed for all winter.

Ornstein had quickly put a stop to that, he had opened one of the room’s windows, picked up the creature and deposited it on the sill while rapidly locking it outside.

The bird looked pissed but the more it ruffled its feathers and knocked on the glass the more it became clear that it wasn’t getting back inside so, after ten minutes, it flew away. Artorias had been happy to discover Dino could fly after all, but had been a little saddened by the lack of cawing in the mornings.

* * *

Not even three days later the lion knight was drinking tea and discussing with Artorias how to solve the shortage of arrows for the archers in training when he looked up at the – now empty – nest… only to discover it wasn’t empty at all.

He had to be staring because next thing he knows he’s being formally introduced to the new inhabitant of his friend’s bookshelf.

“This is Amidala, I found her barely hanging on to a tree in the gardens, it was such a windy day, I was afraid she’d get blown away -“

“Artorias, please tell me that’s not a tarantula” implored the captain.

The way Artorias started fiddling with his teacup was all the confirmation he needed.

“Artorias.” He all but growled. “I can excuse the odd cat and dog, and, hell, even crow but-“

“I couldn’t just leave her there! You know, spiders are really useful, they eat flies and mosquitoes. You’re always complaining about their bites in the summer so you should be happy about Amidala’s presence in the castle.”

He could understand his friend’s nearly pathological need to help everything in his field of vision – not really, but he tried, gods knew he tried. But he still had to draw the line somewhere, and that somewhere was at poisonous animals, so he refused to budge. Apparently though, so did Artorias.

_Diplomacy it is._

“Artorias, listen, I know you’ve already grown attached to Amigdala, but-“

“Amidala.”

“Whatever, the point is that a spider that big needs to live out in the open, don’t you agree?” He reasoned.

“I…I guess you’re right.” Conceded the other knight.

“So, since you’re going on an assignment tomorrow, why don’t you take her with you and free her on your way to Izalith?”

“That far away from the palace?”

“It’s not windy nor rainy, she’ll love it.”

“I’ll think about it.” Concluded Artorias.

In the end, the only way to ensure the eight-legged sac of poison left the area was to ask Ciaran and Gough to address the matter as well. He felt bad for making them team up against one of their comrades, but even the good-natured archer had agreed that a tarantula in the palace was an accident waiting to happen. He still made Ornstein pay for everything on their next monthly pub crawl.

* * *

His lunch was late. Again.

He shouldn’t eat at his desk in the first place, but that was beside the point. Too much work and too little time, damn end of the month, always doubling his paperwork with useless requests.

Just as he was about to get up, a serving girl barged into the office carrying a full tray.

“I’m so sorry for the delay lord Ornstein, here’s your lunch.” She said, helping him move the papers and placing the still hot meal in front of him. “We’re so short-staffed now that Martha’s gone, had we had some notice we may have found a replacement, of course it’s only temporary but the palace doesn’t run itself.”

She was still talking while going to the door, but Ornstein had stopped listening. Martha was usually the one who brought him his meals and late-night snacks, she was currently on maternity leave. He was happy for her, the number of births among the gods were few and far between so a pregnancy was always good news. Still, something was afoot if the lack of a single servant was causing so many problems. Perhaps he ought to investigate.

The following day, at breakfast, he went to talk to one of Ciaran’s recruits. She had barely started her training, but everybody knew her as a great source of gossip – the rare times she deigned to spill the beans.

The information he was looking for wasn’t that hard to come by. A good portion of the palace servants, believing some old wives’ tale, had gone to a certain Areia in hopes to have some more luck in the bedroom. So far three of them had succeeded, including Martha. With such success the rumour mill had started to gain even more traction and now almost everybody in the palace knew of Areia.

“Thank you for your help. I think I’ll go talk with this woman now, any idea where I can find her?”

“She’s spent most of the past few weeks in Knight Artorias’ chambers.”

Ornstein stopped dead in his track.

Artorias. And a woman. A woman who Ciaran hadn’t tried to inconspicuously murder.

Wait.

“People are asking an animal for tips?”

She laughed. “No, they just pet her for good luck!”

“ARTORIAS!”

“I didn’t do anything this time!” Pleaded the wolf knight.

“Where. Is. Areia.”

He must have looked pretty angry because almost immediately his friend defeatedly pointed to the balcony of his room, which was almost entirely occupied by a huge nest. Said nest was being tended by a humongous white bird. Did this damn bird just decide to nest on one of the balconies in the innermost part of the royal palace?!

“You see, I was away on an assignment and when I came back she had already build a good chunk of the nest, she worked so hard to find those branches. I don’t use the balcony that much anyway.”

_At the very least he didn’t bring this one inside._

“Look, since this one came in here on his own I can’t really fault you, however, the pilgrimage of people who want children has got to stop.” Turns out people where coming to pet the damn thing while working. Of course everything was getting delayed as a consequence!

“Yeah, the constant stream of knocking is becoming bothersome, I barely have time to do anything! On the other hand, I’m happy for the four soon-to-be mothers.”

Yes, good for them and their partners- wait.

“Four of them?”

“Yes, one of the girls from the kitchen just came by to tell me. She left moments before you came in. I think her name’s Ester, you know, Martha’s substitute.”

He decided against saying anything else. He just wanted the day to end.

Ornstein was pleased to see that, after his friend had started to implement visiting hours to see Areia, the delays and lack of personnel were almost impossible to notice. He was almost getting used to the bird when one day, completely out of the blue, he noticed the nest was empty and in clear disrepair. Curious, he asked Artorias what had happened, seeing as it was too early for it to migrate.

“Unfortunately last night the wind almost knocked over a tile from the roof. Areia was unharmed but she decided to go nest somewhere else seeing as the wind did damage her nest quite a bit.”

“Well, that’s unfortunate.”

Maybe it was better this way. Still, this one was probably one of the least annoying beasts his friend had taken a shining to.

* * *

Vacation. He honestly had almost forgotten they existed. On any other day he would have been satisfied to just lay on the couch or take a walk through the city in civilian clothes, but Artorias was free as well and had insisted his friend joined him at the nearby hot springs.

“You’ve been so tense lately! A good soak will do wonders for your nerves.”

He wasn’t going to complain. His fellow knight was always in high spirits and excited about everything, but not even Ornstein, notorious killjoy, could deny the allure of a day spent soaking in complete relax. This place wasn’t even that far away so they could enjoy a nice hike before arriving to their destination.

Damn, this place was nice. They had arrived around lunchtime and had been welcomed by a young lady who had then led them to a small dining room with an amazing view of the mountain road they had just walked. It seemed very steep from up there. After a tasty lunch and a couple of hours spent in the lounge playing cards it was time to finally go in the water.

It was still early afternoon and, being a weekday, they had the men’s pool all for themselves. The extra privacy was just the icing on the cake.

Ornstein’s first instinct was to slide into the warm water almost completely and close his eyes. He wasn’t going to fall asleep, just enjoy the crisp mountain air and the gentle peal of the water.

Despite what he had told himself, he was on the verge of drifting off when something touched his shoulder. He muttered a thanks and moved in a different position, folding his arms on the edge of the pool and resting his head on top of them. Another touch to the shoulder, this time accompanied by a little splash of water.

“I’m awake Artorias, stop it.”

“What did you say?” His friend’s voice sounded more distant than it should have been.

He opened his eyes. Artorias was in the adjacent pool, the one which positively looked like a pot of boiling soup, looking intently in his direction.

He heard a sound of splashing water directly behind him. He turned around only to come face to face with… an otter. He was about to say something when the voice of his fellow knight, extremely high-pitched due to the presence of a cute animal, reached him.

“Duke!”

“What?”

Now that he thought about it, around the building there were a lot of drawings of otters, and even on the restaurant’s napkins or on the robes they’d been given there was a small embroidered otter.

“Is this guy a mascot or something like that?” He questioned his friend, who clearly knew the waterproof furball.

“Yes, a lot of people like relaxing with a small cute animal swimming nearby, the owner told me he’s a success with the ladies.”

“I guess it’s also nice for the children. I take it you’ve been here before, you even know they named it Duke.”

The smile his friend gave him would have completely blinded Ciaran had she been there – if not, the nudity would have. “I was the one to name him. I found him on the side of a river while coming back to Anor Londo, he was so skinny and his fur was in tatters. He probably lost his parents too young and couldn’t survive on his own.”

“So you found someone to take care of him, that make sense.”

Artorias silently slid back into the water.

_That can’t be good._

“How come I didn’t notice Duke’s presence at the palace?” He questioned.

“Do you remember the week in which my bathtub was… unusable?”

_He kept the blasted otter in the bathtub. Of course. Standard Artorias’ logic._

“Well, it has been rehomed now, so I guess you’re out of the woods.” Concluded Ornstein, not wanting to ruin the peaceful atmosphere. At least this one was actually in need of a rescue, not just a lazy ass bird.

* * *

Lord Rudget had just left Ornstein’s office. Their talks were always draining. The damn man wanted him to keep tab of every single coin that left the royal treasury for the military. Spending nearly an hour explaining that every once in a while the smiths had to do some maintenance of the silver knights’ equipment was, apparently, not good enough. He wanted to know what piece of armour had required what, who that armour belonged to, what did the smith use and how long had he worked for and, of course, how much all of that was costing the crown. Dealing with him had to be the lowest point of the month.

Unfortunately Lord Gwyn was on a diplomatic visit to Izalith, therefore asking him to talk some sense in that zealot of a bureaucrat wasn’t possible. At least the giant blacksmith was a jovial fellow, and his new apprentice was known to have a good memory.

Just as he suspected. Usual wear and tear of leather straps, some dents and the odd bent. Nothing unusual, the only reason the cost added up so quickly was the sheer number of silver knights currently employed. He would still have to make an extremely detailed report, but if he took long enough Lord Gwyn would probably return in time to tell Lord Rudget to back off.

“Let’s at least start writing this damn thing.” He sighed.

By the late afternoon he was still writing his seemingly endless list. He had to take pride in the fact that almost none of the knights and trainees had damaged their armour too much during daily drills. With a couple of notable exceptions. Then again, there were two or three desperate cases in every batch of recruits.

“Aaah, ‘tis done as well. Go eat now.” Declared the giant blacksmith, rising from behind the anvil for a much needed snack.

_I guess I could take a look at the last piece and then go freshen up for dinner._

The last piece was a very familiar looking sabaton, who had needed some delicate work in order to repair a bent right at the heel.

The hall was full to the brim and it took Ornstein some time to navigate, but luckily for him both Gough and Artorias were quite easy to locate in the sea of silver armours.

“Good evening captain, we were about to decide who got to drag you away from your desk this time.” Laughed the archer.

“Laugh all you want, we all know that if you had to do it you’d have run for the hills on your first day.”

After a couple of jokes the conversation shifted to other topics, it was almost time to leave when Ornstein remembered the bent sabaton at the smithy.

“Artorias, the giant blacksmith was repairing some piece of your armour, are you okay? Do you need someone to take over your duties for tomorrow?” The taller knight seemed to walk just fine but an eventual tendon injury wasn’t something to be brushed off.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m alright. It was just a small bent, Lord Gwyn insisted to have it corrected mostly for aesthetic purposes. Can’t have one of his knights in a less than pristine armour with guests arriving soon.” “Sounds reasonable. Lord Rudget might kick up a fuss though. What did you do to bend that thing?” He questioned. Before the wolf knight had any time to react Gough intervened. “You hadn’t met Venus?”

The whole table fell quiet. Ornstein was already glaring at a very nervous Artorias when the giant continued. “It’s a pity she’s already gone. Poor Venus, let’s hope she’ll be alright.”

A quick and barely noticeable stay. Perfect. He shot a glance towards the archer; either he was stirring up some drama because he was bored or he genuinely thought he knew about this new animal. Whatever the case, Ornstein seemed to be the only one to view the continuous rescues as a serious problem. Well, more of a migraine-inducing hobby, really. Artorias was notoriously a big softie, he was a dear friend, a valid fighter and a good person. However, that didn’t allow him to bring home every injured, sick, cold or sad-looking animal he encountered. Everyone thought the whole thing was funny, leaving only him to deal with the dork.

“Let’s hear the story of this Venus then.” He sighed. At least he could end the day on a humorous note.

“Well, there’s not much to tell.” Began Artorias. “One of the gardeners found her, she was lying in a bush with a nasty indigestion. We took her inside and cared for her in turns. She started to quickly get better and this morning she seemed healthy enough to be freed, I went to pick her up but she jumped from my hands and bit my sabaton. I managed to get her in the end so now she’s free but thank the flame I wasn’t in plain clothes. I didn’t know snapping turtles were this bad tempered.” He laughed. Ornstein smiled shaking his head. Still smiling, he placed a hand on Artorias shoulder: “The repair costs are coming out of your pay.”

* * *

The silver knights stood in perfectly formed lines in the courtyard, their polished armours shining in the sun and their weapons presented in front of them. Looking at them right now, no one could ever imagine the utter chaos the palace had witnessed just an hour before.

After days of seeing hundreds of people come and go to participate in the selection for the available – and terribly rare – position for the silver knights’ rank, a handful of suitable candidates had been found and all the people temporarily staying at the palace had finally left the royal residence.

_Now we can finally breathe and go back to our usual schedule._

The soldiers currently in the city had all been called to the palace in order to strengthen security and show off the military might of Lord Gwyn’s rule. With the last visitors leaving and the extra personnel returning to their posts within tomorrow, the usual calm was beginning to settle in.

Ornstein would still have some extra work tomorrow, talking with the new recruits and starting their paperwork. Sometimes, he really hated all the bureaucracy that came with his position. At least the only thing left to do before turning in would allow him to sleep better. Not that he enjoyed chastising people – despite what some cynical assassin liked to believe.

After reaching his destination, Ornstein knocked on the familiar door in front of him, which was immediately opened by a sheepish Artorias. The lion knight walked straight towards one of the small couches and saw on the nearby low table a teapot and two cups were already waiting for him. His friend sat opposite of him and started pouring both of them tea while looking terribly nervous.

_Good, let him stew a little._

After accepting his teacup, Ornstein let his gaze wonder trough the room while making a point of completely ignoring the other knight.

The desk had been thoroughly cleaned and organized, which meant _someone_ knew the gravity of his fuck-up; the huge dog-bed near the door was still empty and clean, while the tiny one under the window was still occupied by the small furry demon.

He was almost out of tea when he decided to finally break the ice. “This is why I always complain about your furry guests, Artorias.” No response. “I agree that a young woman should really know better, but that doesn’t excuse you. Everything went well in the end, but think of the possible consequences we could have faced.” The other man looked so dejected Ornstein didn’t think raising his voice would be necessary. It really looked like, this time around, Artorias had thought of the political repercussions and was actually acting on them. If that was the case, this was going to be solved within a couple of days. “So, have you come up with a permanent solution or will Princess Gwynevere end up with a brand-new fur collar?” He prompted. Artorias looked horrified at the mere idea.

“I’ve actually sent a letter to a woman who lives outside the city. She’s currently taking care of some horses for a breeder, last I talked to her she was intrigued by the opportunity to take care of more exotic animals as well. She has a small cabin with a barn near the stable where she’s employed so…”

“Mrs. Fur Coat can go live there until her leg’s healed, good. Take this beast out of the city as soon as you get a reply.” And with that the matter was settled. With a last look at the small demon, he left for his own rooms.

It was kind of incredible how many problems a small fox with a broken leg could cause. She had been found lost and bleeding in the palace gardens – once again. He was going to suggest planting carnivorous plants if this pattern kept going. Artorias had, obviously, interceded for the pest and had cared for it in his rooms for some days. Like everybody else, though, he had to help with the extra security measures and had had to leave the critter alone for increasingly longer periods of time. Everything else had just been bad luck, really.

A young woman, completely lost in the big palace, had somehow ended up in the area that housed the knights’ private quarters and, not knowing where to go but too shy to ask, she had opened the door to Artorias’ rooms. At that point, a silver knight stationed nearby had noticed and helped her.

The damage was done, though. The furry creature, bored and already able to walk, had sneaked out of the room. Her disappearance had been noticed only hours later, and even more time had to pass before they located the little demon. Said little demon had already demonstrated her hate towards every single living creature in the castle, with the exception of Artorias, who provided her with food and blankets and was thusly spared her bite attempts.

Thankfully, during the farewell party Ciaran had located the critter peacefully sleeping on top of a lady’s fur coat, mere moments before the owner came to fetch it. Had the assassin been a minute late, Lords know what could have happened.

* * *

After looking through the most recent entries, Ornstein couldn’t help but worry. They had come extremely close to a diplomatic disaster, that evening. Still. The fox in itself wasn’t the problem. The problem was Artorias. He was clearly relapsing in his old habits now that Sif wasn’t with him 24/7. He knew how attached his friend was to the wolf, he almost considered her his baby.

Sif was still very attached to the knight, but she wasn’t a puppy anymore and it wasn’t unreasonable for her to want some time alone in the wild, instead of always staying in a city. Artorias knew and understood that, however the insistent voice in his head encouraging him to pet and adopt everything furry didn’t.

It was time to have a serious talk with him, maybe including the other two knights as well. The three of them should be able to talk some sense in the big softy.

* * *

The following day he managed to talk with Gough about his plans and the archer promised to inform Ciaran, whom he was meeting that evening, while Ornstein went to talk with Artorias.

It was right after dinner when his friend came to talk to him, saving him the effort of searching the whole palace. “Ornstein, sorry to bother you but is there any chance I may use your washroom again?”

“You too?” Bristled the lion knight. “Those damned ‘engineers’, every single time they put their hands on the plumbing they break something! You’re the third one today!”

Artorias tried to placate his captain. “Nothing’s broken, just… impracticable.”

The first tell-tale signs of a migraine accompanied the silence that followed. Ornstein pinched his nose and took a deep breath. Whatever was currently inhabiting his friend’s bathroom wasn’t going to stay for long, the chat he had planned was going take care of that. In the meantime, keeping his cool was the only solution.

“Of course, I’m going for a drink either way. Just tell me what you have brought in this time.” He sighed.

If Artorias was surprised by the interest in his new rescue, he didn’t show it. “It’s a bunch of tadpoles! I found them in the section of the riverbank that’s recently gone dry. They’re almost ready to leave though, almost all of them have grown legs, I’m just waiting for the last stragglers to do so too.”

“And then you’ll free them somewhere.” Tiredly concluded the captain. “Okay, good. Ah, before I forget, we’re having a small meeting in two days time, just the four of us… having tea… chatting a bit…”

“… Okay.”

After that awkward exchange, Artorias slipped away while Ornstein was beginning to ponder how much alcohol had he left in his office.

“You really think a talk is going to set him straight?”

“Let me hope.” The news that there was going to be a bunch of frogs in the palace had drained him so much he didn’t even have the reflexes to jump out of his skin, so he had replied before really noticing the figure perched on the top of one of the hallway’s columns.

Ciaran always had the uncanny ability to be exactly where she needed to be when she needed; it was one of the reasons she was such an effective spy and assassin. Unfortunately, when she was bored said ability became a mere way to pass the time and have some fun, much to her friends’ chagrin. His state probably amused her to no end.

"What if he goes on like this for the rest of his life?" He wondered.

"I don't think so. Sif isn't a puppy anymore, nor is she an adult. Of course she doesn't spend every waking moment with Artorias, but she’ll be back."

"So what are these months of barely any contact? Teenage rebellion?"

The blonde assassin just shrugged. Then again, she was the one who found Artorias' veterinary tendencies most funny.

* * *

He was running late. That was uncharacteristic of him. The whole night spent re-reading his small black journal in search of elements he could use in his arguments had clearly taken its toll on him. Not to mention the fact that he had spent the morning punishing half of his silver knights for gambling half of their salary on whether or not some of Artorias’ frogs were going to return, looking for a cushy life and forever abandoning the wild.

When he reached the spot they had agreed on, he noticed the only one waiting for him was Ciaran. She barely had time to say a word when a familiar bark reached his ears. Looking around, he found the familiar furry mass of a wolf rolling around in the grass, barking without a care in the world with Artorias kneeling by her, rubbing her belly like it was his only job. The giant archer was sitting nearby, scratching behind the animal’s ears from time to time.

“Well, looks like the problem solved itself.” Snickered the assassin. “Still, what a timing.”

He must have looked pretty unconvinced, so she explained: “She has been staying with someone named Alvina, a good friend of Artorias. Apparently he kept visiting, desperately worried, and she was getting tired of dealing with a rambunctious overgrown puppy, so she talked some sense into Sif and made her go back home.”

“She ‘talked some sense’ in a wolf.”

“His words.”

Of course Artorias had befriended a weird spinster lady who lived in the woods and talked to animals. Maybe she was a friend of Elisabeth, who got mentioned every once in a while. But he shouldn’t be too critic, after all she had succeeded, he thought, looking back at his friend showering with attention his four-legged companion.

"What's that black book?" Asked the small assassin.

"It's a list of the various critters our dear Artorias has sneaked into the palace. Maybe one day I'll let you take a peak", he joked.

"Mh. Those are just the one you noticed" she smirked, producing two bulky journals from gods know where. He recoiled a little at the idea; certain things were better left unsaid. At least, with Sif's return, life in the capitol could, at long last, go back to the usual quiet.


End file.
